


hold my hand (and I'll hold yours)

by sassy_ninja



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Best Friends, Canon Era, Character Study, Closeted Character, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Investigations, M/M, No Angst, No Smut, Nonbinary Character, Revolutionaries In Love, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_ninja/pseuds/sassy_ninja
Summary: Jehan notices something is off with Courfeyrac, he's stopped flirting with girls, hasn't had a mistress in months. They are determined to get to the bottom of what's wrong and unfortunately if mildly traumatising Marius is the only way to way to do that then some sacrifices must be made for the greater good. The answer though, is really not what Jehan expected, but honestly they should've seen it coming.
Relationships: Courfeyrac & Jean Prouvaire, Courfeyrac/Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 10





	hold my hand (and I'll hold yours)

**Author's Note:**

> yes I still have an unfinished fic but in the meantime have more courfjolras fic that no one asked for. I've had this idea vaguely floating around my head for a while and I might add to it (maybe from Marius' pov?) but at this point every time I make a promise on here u should just assume I'm not going to follow through so aha. also the title?? idk at this point just ignore me bc idk how to come up w titles...

Jehan narrows their eyes across the table at Courfeyrac. Something is wrong. It’s been six months since he last had a mistress and in all the years they’ve known each other Jehan doesn’t remember there ever being so long where Courfeyrac hasn’t so much as had a single fling. The last time he went even half this long it was because his mistress had left him to get married to some pompous aristocrat and he’d been so heartbroken he’d barely even ironed his cravats for a week. But this time nothing of the such has happened, it’s all highly suspicious.

“Do I have something on my face? Or are you just dreaming of Agrippa again?” Courfeyrac asks, curious smile on his face and Jehan has to blink themselves out of their thoughts.

“Oh hmm, I was just thinking that you haven’t a mistress for a while,” they say simply.

Bahorel bellows out a laugh, slapping Courfeyrac on the back so hard he winces a little, but he doesn’t even say something witty in response just flushes a little and mutters, “it hasn’t been that long.”

“When was the last time you went more than a month alone?” Bossuet teases as he and Joly pull up chairs.

Joly chips in, “it was when that girl left him to get ma–”

“To get married, yes I remember,” Courfeyrac scowls dramatically, “do we have to bring her up _every_ time? Anyways, would anyone believe me if I said I was throwing myself wholeheartedly into this revolutionary business and have resolved to only get another mistress in the republic.”

Everyone on the table dissolves into laughter, even Jehan can’t help themselves but to laugh into their hand.

“I’ll believe that when Grantaire goes sober,” Bahorel grins, leaving Courfeyrac to try splutter in his own defence and Grantaire’s. It doesn’t help when Grantaire shouts a ‘it’ll never happen’ from across the room.

“What business is it of anyone’s who I’m bedding anyways,” Courfeyrac sulks, burying his face his arms to try hide his embarrassed flush. Jehan can still see the tips of his red ears but they choose not to mention it.

Suddenly Enjolras walks over to the table, raising one eyebrow at where Courfeyrac is still hiding his face before he addresses them all, “you all seem very boisterous today, let us transfer that energy into more meaningful debate. Bahorel, have you heard from your potential contact in the Polytechnique?”

And with that the conversation moves on, Courfeyrac cautiously lifts his head to join the discussion, flush almost gone from his face again. When Enjolras leaves to talk to Feuilly he bends his head down by Courfeyrac’s as if making sure he’s alright and when he goes back, Courfeyrac’s ears are red again. So very odd, Jehan thinks.

* * *

They don’t let it go after that, even though everyone else seems to have forgotten about it, because just as Bahorel had said there are certain things that are central to one’s character; Grantaire with his wine, themselves with their poetry and Courfeyrac with his flirtation and womanising. If any of them were to stop all of a sudden it would mean something rather significant has changed and Jehan are determined to figure out what could have possibly caused this shift in Courfeyrac.

They try to remember what they know about Courfeyrac’s past mistresses, but the more they think about it though the more they realise that he always tended to keep them relatively to himself. He never talked about every detail of the night like Bahorel and Grantaire tend to do, nor has he ever brought someone into the fold like Bossuet and Joly have with Musichetta. In fact, at most he tends to give a brief description of their appearances, usually nothing more than their hair colour and very occasionally a defining feature like freckles or a crooked nose.

Jehan stops in the street, stumped. This entire time they’ve operated purely on assumptions and whatever was insinuated when Courfeyrac winks vivaciously and makes a crude hand gesture. They doesn’t even think they’ve ever seen him leave with a grisette at a dance before, always seeming to find someone in private or when no one else is there.

In the midst of their strange realisation though they spot one of Courfeyrac’s friends across the street, oh what was his name again? Marius? Courfeyrac tends to collect friends quite quickly, sometimes Jehan forgets their names, especially since many of them only seem fleeting, but Marius appears to have stayed around.

“Marius,” they shout, waving enthusiastically across the street. It startles him so much that he drops the papers he’s carrying, looking around wildly like he’s just been shot at.

“Jean Prouvaire. Apologies, I didn’t see you there,” he says when Jehan runs across the street, feeling a little guilty to have scared him so much.

“I apologise for frightening you, Marius. And please call me Jehan, that’s what all my friends call me,” they chirp, helping him pick up all the papers he dropped. Marius flushes and nods seemingly pleased to be called a friend.

“I must really be hurrying home now, I have quite a lot of work I need to complete by tomorrow,” he says a little stiffly once everything is back in order, “it was nice to see you though,” he adds on after a moment when he realises he’s being slightly rude.

“Oh, I do have one quick question. It’s about Courfeyrac,” Jehan blurts out and Marius looks slightly terrified even as he nods, “you lived with him for a while, right? Did he sleep with anyone while you were there?”

It takes him about a minute of red-faced spluttering before he regains the ability to speak, Jehan just waits patiently for him to calm himself down again. These bourgeoisie students, they’re such prudes sometimes, they sigh internally, but they remember that Marius is pretty quick to startle and keeps their spiel about how ‘sex really is a wonderful and natural thing and we should all be more open about it’ to themselves for now.

“No,” he finally chokes out, shaking his head quickly, “no. He didn’t sleep – no. No one at all.”

Jehan lets out a frustrated huff after Marius makes his rapid escape, almost running down the street to get away. That really doesn’t solve anything, in fact it makes it all rather more confusing because Marius stayed with Courfeyrac nine months ago and for a rather long while too. Maybe out of courtesy and respect he would go to his mistress’ lodgings. Marius does seem very prudish, they does suppose that it would be easier than the alternative.

* * *

They’re just reading some poetry in a park, thinking idly about how the largest cloud in the sky is rather phallic shaped and wishing that they had someone to remark about it to when Courfeyrac drops down onto the ground next to them.

“Hello Courfeyrac,” they say, not looking up from their book.

“Hello Jehan,” he replies, pleasantly, “hey doesn’t that cloud look rather–”

“–Penis like?” they finish off, smiling and closing their book once they've finished their poem.

Courfeyrac laughs so loudly that the people walking by them stop and stare. Eventually though he calms down and gives Jehan as stern a stare as he can, “fantastic clouds aside I do have a small issue with you Jean Prouvaire.”

“Oh, full names. Am I in trouble?” they pout and Courfeyrac mouth twitches briefly into a smile before he manages to school himself.

“When I was out today for lunch with Marius he told me that you – well, that you accosted him on the street and demanded that he tell you who I slept with,” he says, raising an eyebrow and Jehan just shrugs.

“I didn’t accost him, all I did was ask if you slept with anyone when he was living with you. Really, he was very unnecessarily embarrassed, you should tell him that sex is a–”

“Natural thing and we should all be able to talk about it freely, I know, I know,” Courfeyrac waves him off, sensing the rest of the lecture coming on and Jehan just huffs quietly, “but Marius isn’t quite used to Romantic ideas like free love and all that, he can barely look anyone in the eye yet, give him some time.”

“I apologise for upsetting him, though. I truly didn’t mean to I was just…” and then they trail off, Courfeyrac raising his eyebrows again.

“What _were_ you doing then, Monsieur Jehan?” he asks.

“Well, I was just doing a bit of investigating. It really is a bit odd that you haven’t slept with anyone in so long, I was worried that something might be wrong,” they blurt out, staring up at the sky where the penis shaped cloud has now broken in two.

Courfeyrac makes a small, frustrated noise and flops over onto his back, “is it really that unbelievable that I might just not want to sleep with anyone for a while? I’ve been throwing myself into this whole revolutionary business, _really_.”

“I believe you, I’m sorry for prying I just didn’t want you to be carrying any burdens by yourself,” they say softly.

“The only burden I carry is that of wanting to change society,” he jokes, giving Jehan a gentle nudge that shows they’ve been forgiven. They sigh, lying down next to him and pointing out a cloud that looks like a frog.

* * *

They do forget about it, honestly and truly they do. When Bahorel brings it up a few weeks later they even sacrifice their poor arm to an arm wrestle they know for sure they’ll lose just to distract him. They have a bruise on their elbow from it and a very slightly hurt ego, but it’s worth it for the thankful smile Courfeyrac gives them.

In all the trouble though they manage to forget one of their notebooks in the Musain. It’s got some new poems that they want to work on tonight and they’re not too far yet so they bid goodbye to Joly, who they usually walk with and turn back.

They’re so preoccupied with where they might have dropped it or if one of the waitresses might have tidied it away that they almost walk straight in, but there’s a soft murmur of voices inside that stops them. Jehan frowns, that’s odd, everyone should have already gone home. The door is ever so slightly ajar and they peek through, a little startled to see Courfeyrac and Enjolras still there and talking quietly, Enjolras sitting and Courfeyrac standing next to him to look at some papers on the table.

It’s not too unusual for a few of them to stay behind to work on something together, Combeferre had mentioned that they needed one more essay for their next pamphlet. They’re just about to knock and walk in when Courfeyrac reaches over to tuck a stray curl behind Enjolras’ ear, tracing his fingers down his jaw and then tilting his head up to kiss him softly on the corner of his lips. It’s so quiet and tender that it makes Jehan suck in a breath.

“Courfeyrac, we’re supposed to be working,” Enjolras says, trying to look stern but he smiles when Courfeyrac just leans in for another kiss and then another, “someone could walk in.”

“It’s late, they’ve all gone home,” Courfeyrac says, but he leans back anyways. Enjolras’ eyes flutter closed for just a second as Courfeyrac cups his cheek and looks slightly disappointed when his hand retreats.

The two of them turn back to work and Jehan realises with alarming quickness what he just witnessed. It all makes sense now, why Courfeyrac’s ‘friends’ seemed to come and go at the same speed as his mistresses, why none of them had ever met them or even known their names and more importantly why he hasn’t had any new mistresses in the last six almost seven months.

They stumble back, quietly, forgetting about their notebook already, their mind in a whirlwind of delight. No wonder Courfeyrac was so flustered by all the questions, he couldn’t very well tell them the truth, but someone like Enjolras of all people? Jehan had always somewhat agreed (privately mind you) with Grantaire, in that Enjolras seems almost godlike and definitely untouchable. Although, they suppose that of all the people on earth who could reach the peak of Olympus it could only be someone as warm and human as Courfeyrac.

They smile, delighted. This is a secret they’ll take to the grave, they’d rather throw themselves off a clifftop than let their friend’s love be ruined in any way by ridiculous things like bourgeoisie societal norms, they’ve always believed in free love after all. They hum a little ditty and skip the entire way home, tipping their hat at their landlady who just gives them a bewildered smile.

(Courfeyrac hands Jehan their notebook at the next meeting and he’s greeted with a smile so big he’s a little taken aback.

“Are you that relieved to have it back?” he asks, brow wrinkled in amused confusion.

“Of course,” Jehan replies in their simple matter of fact way, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. They immediately open the book to an empty page and start scribbling things down with a ferocity Courfeyrac hasn't seen in a long while.

He just shrugs, sometimes he really doesn’t understand the little poet, but ah it only makes him fonder.

“Is Jehan alright? He hasn’t said anything this entire time,” Enjolras remarks after the meeting is over, Courfeyrac shrugs again.

“Some things will always be a mystery,” he says when Jehan gives him a knowing smile and skips out of the room.)

**Author's Note:**

> if u enjoyed pls leave a kudo and a comment!! also if u want to come shout at me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/lesbiancourf?s=20)! i shout a lot abt les mis on there!


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